


Sensual Interrogation

by anubislover



Series: The Love of the Sun, Moon, and Earth [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Breast Fucking, Collars, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Interrogation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 10:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12746352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anubislover/pseuds/anubislover
Summary: Maria wishes to know where the leader of the Assassins has gone, and plans on interrogating a captive Malik for answers. The one-armed Dai certainly doesn't wish to tell her Altair's whereabouts, but how can one possibly resist her methods?





	Sensual Interrogation

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration for this fic was drawn partially from chapter three of Dizzydodo's awesome fic "Masquerade" and an AC fancomic I bought that had a very sexy picture of Malik bound and shirtless. The rest came from having a sudden influx of free time on my hands and everyone asking when Maria was finally going to top in one of my stories.

Malik practically growled as he struggled against the restraints that held him to the wall. His sole arm was shackled to the cold stone behind him, and a collar around his neck was equally chained, giving him nothing but the barest movement. He’d been stripped of his robes, leaving him in nothing but his brown slacks and grey linen shirt, bare feet restlessly shifting his weight as he watched the door.

Damn that woman! She’d tricked him, luring him into a false sense of security, then when his guard was down, shackled him to the wall at the top of the tower, where no one would hear them.

The door opened, and in walked the Englishwoman, more beautiful than the finest courtesan, but as dangerous as any Assassin. She was dressed in her usual tan breeches, but as soon as the heavy wooden door closed she shucked off her tunic, throwing it on the table to strut about in nothing but her breast bindings. Malik hated how his body instinctively reacted to the sight of all that pale, deliciously exposed flesh, so he forced himself to focus instead on her face. Her hair was up in its braided bun, grey eyes surveying him critically, even as she leaned against the table across the room with a casual ease.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” she said, crisp accent filling the air like perfume.

With a snort, he turned his head as much as the collar would allow in defiance. “You’ll gain no information from me, woman. I’d sooner bite off my own tongue than compromise the brotherhood.”

A small chuckle escaped her full lips. “What a shame that would be. I’ve many uses for that tongue.”

Instinctively he swallowed, and he could feel her sharp gaze on how the action contracted the muscles of his throat. Smirking, he gave her a sideways glance, dark eyes smoldering in a way he knew made even the most hard-edged women weak in the knees. “If that’s the case, I suggest you undo these ridiculous shackles, and we could instead pass the time exploring how many uses it truly has,” he replied.

Sauntering forward, her hips swaying enticingly, she tapped her bottom lip in mock consideration. “Tempting, but I refuse to leave here empty-handed. You have information I want, and I’ve grown rather invested in how I might coax it from your lips.”

“You waste both our time, then. We Assassins are made of sterner stuff than Templars; it will take more—”

He was cut off as Maria drew a small, sharp knife, steady hands holding the edge of the blade lightly against the tender skin of his throat. “Oh, I don’t think it would be a waste of time. In fact, I believe you’ll come to enjoy my methods.”

Carefully, she trailed the tip of her knife across his collarbone before stopping at the neck of his shirt. Giving him a devilish look, she grasped the fabric in her free hand, pulling it taut before slicing it completely open.

The Dai hissed as the cool tower air kissed his bare chest, instantly causing his nipples to harden. With practiced ease, Maria made a few more strategic slices, smirking with satisfaction as the grey linen fluttered to the stone floor.

Calloused fingers delicately traced the defined planes of his chest. “Pretty,” she murmured, brushing the lightest kiss over a faded scar that adorned his pectoral. “Who would expect a cartographer to have so many muscles?”

“I’m no mere cartographer, and you know it,” he ground out between his teeth, hissing as the tip of her hot tongue trailed around a nipple.

Smirking up at him, the gleam in her eyes was nothing short of wicked. “Oh, I know. You’re the second-in-command of the Assassin Brotherhood, right-hand man to their leader. The very man I seek.”

“I’ll tell you nothing, Templar,” he snarled, though his eyes shut tightly as she switched her attention to his other nipple, worrying the pink bud with her teeth before soothing it with the flat of her velvet tongue. Her hands were far from idle, either, running along the lines of his shoulders teasingly. He noticed she didn’t shy away from his stump. He supposed it shouldn’t surprise him; she was a soldier, more than familiar with amputees and battle scars, but the tender way she caressed it nevertheless gave him pause.

“Perhaps not right now, but I’m fine with that. We have all night, after all, and there’s much of you I’d like to examine.” Eagerly she returned to the first nipple, sucking and licking it, her fingers curiously trailing down the rest of his torso. Sure digits mapped every inch of his exposed chest, from the sharp ridges of his collarbones and ribs to the defined muscles of his abdominals, lingering just above the top of his trousers. Next, they circled around to study the planes of his back, clipped nails dragging along the muscles there. Finally, they slid down to squeeze his rear, making him jerk impulsively. Amused by his reaction, her mouth abandoned its task of turning his nipples pomegranate red to sample the skin of his throat above the collar, alternating between sharp nips and wet kisses.

Tracing the sharp line of his jaw with silken lips, he felt her murmur against his skin, “Where is Altair Ibn-La’Ahad?”

Malik did his best to ignore the sensations the Englishwoman was enticing from his body. He was accustomed to interrogation through pain, but this was maddeningly different. Her mouth was divinely soft in contrast to the rough stubble of his jaw. Wherever her hands touched, his flesh was set ablaze with sensation, every inch of him hyperaware of her presence. Still, he refused to break so easily; he’d made a promise to his brother to keep quiet, to keep his whereabouts a secret from the deadly woman. So he grit his teeth, determined to endure, even as his nerves practically sang under her ministrations.

“Loyal. I admire that,” she said when it became obvious he wouldn’t answer, “but I wonder what could be so important that you’d willingly stand here and allow me to molest you. Or could it be that you want more?”

Before he could reply, her mouth was on his, and the length of her body was pressed against him, soft curves and firm muscle beneath smooth flesh stoking the fire that had kindled in his belly. Without thinking, he responded to the kiss, opening his mouth and tangling his tongue with hers, tasting every inch of her sweet depths. She kissed back just as hard, teeth nipping his bottom lip, tongue soothing the sting before thrusting into his own wanting mouth.

Air eventually become scarce in their lungs, forcing them to pull away, panting. Maria’s bountiful chest pressed against his with every inhale, and he groaned when her thigh slipped between his, rubbing at the hardening length she felt there.

“It seems I have one answer, then,” she teased breathily, straddling his thigh so she could grind her hot quim against him, letting out a little sigh in his ear as the seam of her breeches pressed against her tingling clit.

Catching his own breath, Malik gave her a predatory grin. “Maybe, but you’d best tread carefully, woman; your methods seem to be something of a double-edged sword.” Before she could respond, he lifted the thigh between her legs, coaxing a brief, surprised mewl from her lips as a shock of pleasure shot through her core, instinctively grinding down against it.

He chuckled at her moment of weakness, which earned him a sharp glare. Stepping back, Maria took a deep breath to compose herself, though the faint blush that painted her cheeks betrayed her stoic expression.

“Let’s focus on you, then.” A warm hand cupped his covered manhood before he could blink, rubbing and stroking the obviously hardening organ. The nails of her other hand delicately traced the muscles of his belly, the sensation making his hips jerk instinctually into her palm. “If you’re reluctant to spill your master’s location, perhaps we could come to another arrangement. I confess, I’m growing rather fond of you like this.” Leaning forward, she ran her lips over the shell of his ear as she ground her palm against his erection. “You’d make a handsome pet. Some training is in order, though.”

“I’m no dog you can order about,” he growled, eyes screwing shut as more blood filled his cock.

Trailing her nails up his chest, she eventually traced the skin beneath the collar around his neck, giving it a taunting tug. “No? You certainly act like one, diligently watching the horizon, waiting for your master’s return. Perhaps I should attach a leash and parade you through the courtyard.” Grabbing his bearded chin, she tugged his face down to look at her. A wicked smile split her face. “Bark.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I want you to bark.” The hand around his cock gave a squeeze. Not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to remind him that she, quite literally, had him by the balls.

Face flushing with both humiliation at his predicament and arousal from her husky, commanding tone, he bared his teeth like a feral jackal and let out a sharp, single bark.

She beamed, removing the hand at his cock to unknot the ties of his trousers, loosening them enough to burrow her hand inside, making him hiss as her slender fingers wrapped around his hot manhood.

“Very good. Again.”

“No.”

Another sharp squeeze, this time without the slight protection of his breeches, and when he felt the sharp edge of her nails against the fragile skin of his balls he let out a strained “Fuck!”

“Unless you wish for me to stop being nice, you’ll obey. Now, bark for me, dog.”

Swallowing his pride, he complied, knowing it was far from an empty threat.

“Good dog.” There was triumph and mirth in her eyes as she stroked his cock as a reward, pleased when he bucked into her hand. “You like this, don’t you? Without your leader around, you need someone to obey, to put you in your place. I’d be happy to do that, and I _always_ reward my pets,” she whispered seductively.

Hips jerking at her ministrations, Malik realized that, stubborn as he was, at the moment he was at a distinct disadvantage. Maria Thorpe was a stunning and dangerous creature, as graceful and deadly as a lioness. The woman was deliberate in every action she took against an opponent; she knew how to tease and touch and get him worked up even as he valiantly defied her. Even if his mind rebelled, his body was aching for more, a part of him begging to simply give up Altair’s location so she might pleasure him further.

The worst part was, even aside from his cock, his desire was evident. His cheeks were flushed, a faint sheen of sweat had begun to cover his skin, and his heart was pounding so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it. She had him right where she wanted him, and it was clear now that she would not stand for open resistance.

So he tried a different tactic. Perhaps he could distract her, shift her focus to something that would keep her from accidentally unmanning him. Lure her into thinking she had him, then strike when the opportunity arose. “If I did…” he trailed off, voice a calculated mix of tentative consideration and yearning submission, eyes averted demurely to give the illusion of defeat.

“If you did what? Speak, dog!”

Swallowing heavily, he gave her a brief, anxious glance before looking away again. “If I did want to be your dog, would you unchain me from the wall?”

Throwing her head back, she let out an almost musical laugh. “Unchain you? Now why would I do that? You might run away,” she chided, humor lacing her voice as she stroked him again, enjoying the way she could feel him grow more aroused in her palm.

“But Mistress,” he simpered, groaning faintly as she twisted her wrist, sending a particularly delicious shock of pleasure through him. “Why would I run away? I promise to be a good dog, and a good dog never leaves his owner’s side.”

“Oh?” she asked, amused. A single finger hooked under his chin, turning him to face her. “And if I were to unchain you, pray tell, how would you prove yourself to be a good dog?”

“Well, what do dogs do?” he panted, forcing his brain to focus on his plan and not the amazing way she was currently rubbing the pad of her thumb over the head of his cock. “They walk by your side, fetch you rabbits, and guard you with their lives. Should someone, say, another assassin, attempt to attack you, how could I protect you if I were chained to the wall?”

“True,” she said thoughtfully, stroking his cheek. Her head was cocked slightly in consideration, and he could read in her eyes that he’d captured her imagination. “I do seem to have many enemies.”

Pressing on, he said, “They are also quite known for loving their owners unconditionally. If I were your dog, I’d lay at your feet all day, staring at you adoringly, always thinking to myself how lucky I am to have such a kind and beautiful mistress.”

A tiny smile touched her lips at his words.

His voice dropped an octave lower, becoming more seductive. “Of course, I’d be more than eager to beg for treats. What kind of dog doesn’t rest his head on his mistress’ thigh, mouth watering in anticipation, willing to do anything for even the slightest morsel?”

“What kind of treat would you expect?” she replied, voice breathy and pupils blown with obvious arousal.

Leaning forward slightly, he rutted his hips against her hand and his hot breath danced across her bare shoulders, resisting the urge to smirk as he watched her shiver in delight. “Anything you give me would be a treat,” he whispered. “And like a good dog, I’d show my gratitude and affection by _licking_.”

An audible groan escaped her lips as the hand that had been stroking his face buried itself in his hair, yanking him against her as she again claimed his lips, demanding entrance to his mouth. He eagerly granted it, grinning as she pressed against him, releasing his cock to anchor itself on his narrow hip, grinding her clothed cunt against his straining, now fully-hard erection.

When she finally granted him a reprieve to greedily gulp down air, he panted, “So, Mistress? May I be unchained so I can show you what a good dog I am?”

“No.”

When his face morphed from hopeful submission to shock to irritation, she laughed gleefully. Pulling his cock from the confines of his trousers, she said, “As lovely as all that sounds, I won’t be distracted from my mission. So, if you truly wish to be a good dog, why don’t you obey your mistress and tell me where Altair is?”

His glare would make a lesser woman tremble, but Maria was no shrinking flower. Shrugging at his defiance, she reached behind her back, untying the knot that secured her chest bindings.

The assassin watched her with curiosity and annoyance that his plan had failed. “Do you think me some adolescent boy, able to be manipulated by a pretty pair of tits?” he growled even as his cock twitched happily at the sight of the mounds of pale flesh slowly being revealed.

“No, but I do think you’re a man whose cock is just _aching_ for attention,” she replied, a devious smile on her face.

Sinking to her knees, she caressed his sharp hipbones before cradling her prisoner’s turgid length in her hands. “So hot and eager. Imagine that; an Assassin hard for a Templar. I’m not unmerciful, you know. If you tell me where Altair has gone, I’ll release you.” Her meaning did not escape him as she looked up at him seductively. “However, if you resist, I’ll make it so you’re begging me for mercy.”

Malik looked down at her. There was no denying how badly he wanted her, his cock throbbing and engorged, a drop of pearly precum leaking from the tip. Maria looked maddeningly tempting; pink lips were slightly parted, the tip of her tongue peeking out to wet them. Her full, luscious breasts were bared, rosy nipples hard and begging for his mouth to taste them. If he simply answered her questions, informed her of Altair’s whereabouts, she’d release him, and once he was free he’d get sweet revenge.

Yet despite sense and dignity demanding he simply answer her question, he instead replied, “Do your worst.”

She didn’t even hesitate, wrapping those plump lips around the tip of his cock and giving a sharp suck, swallowing down his entire length when he let out a wanton groan. Head bobbing up and down, she alternated between laving the sensitive underside with her tongue and hollowing her cheeks, nose burying itself in the curly black hairs at the base.

Satisfied that she’d lubricated him enough, she released the organ with a pop, smiling sympathetically up at him when he let out a sound that was almost a needy mewl. Adjusting her position, she encased his cock between her breasts, rocking a few times so it could slide between the tender mounds of pale flesh. Ducking her head, she gave the tip a teasing lick before looking up, smirking at the way her prisoner’s dark gaze was completely transfixed on her. Finding a slow, steady rhythm, she continued to pleasure him with her chest, occasionally giving the head of his cock a wet, teasing kiss.

The room was filled with Malik’s strained gasps and moans, and she studied his reactions carefully. His hips were thrusting in time with her ministrations, clearly desperate for more pleasure, edging his way towards completion. His eyes remained on her, but they were dilated and unfocused, and she could see every muscle from his abdominals to his neck to his lone arm were straining.

Climax was imminent, and she pulled away, almost taking pity on him when he let out a desperate cry at the sudden lack of stimulation. She could see the lust in his dark eyes, hear the need in every shallow gasp, and she knew now was the time to strike.

Lazily running her nail along the underside of his straining cock, she asked, “Where did Altair go?”

“Damascus!” he gasped, thrusting into the empty air as she removed her hand. Clearly, the once-proud assassin had reached his limit, having gone mad with lust. She smirked. _I knew I’d break him eventually,_ she thought smugly.

Rewarding his cooperation with a quick, sharp suck to the crimson head of his cock, she pulled back just far enough so that only the damp heat of her breath touched him. “What is so important in Damascus that he could not tell me where he was going?”

Malik choked out, “He’s getting you a new sword.”

Another suck, this time longer, swirling the flat of her tongue over the weeping head. “Why the hell would he go all the way to Damascus to get me a new sword and not bother telling me?”

“Because he intends to ask you to marry him!” he cried, head falling back as he groaned, single arm straining against the restraints as his hips desperately jerked forward, frantically seeking any kind of stimulation.

Surprised at his answer but pleased at his cooperation, she swallowed him to the hilt, licking and sucking with gusto until he finally came in her mouth with a wanton, violent scream, molten cum erupting in Maria’s mouth. She gulped it down, continuing to bob her head to milk every last drop of his seed, tongue stroking him soothingly as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax.

After a few moments his breath evened, and Maria stood, yanking his head forward to claim his mouth, Malik’s normally sharp tongue pliant against hers. He greedily lapped up the traces of his seed that lingered on her lips and gums, moaning helplessly as her nails dug into his scalp.

Finally pulling away, she took in how he was nearly limp against his restraints, and she dashed over to the table to fetch a small, metal key, quickly undoing the locks of his shackles, leaning his larger body against hers so he wouldn’t collapse.

Walking him towards the single chair, she eased him into it, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. “If you had just told me, I wouldn’t have had to put you through all that,” she murmured apologetically.

His arm and legs hung like dead weight as he rolled his head to face her. “Altair made me promise not to tell you. He wanted it to be a surprise.”

An apprehensive shadow fell across her face, and he asked, “Do you not wish to marry him?”

“Of course I do,” she insisted. “But what about you?”

“What about me?”

“If he and I get married, where does that leave you?”

“Do you no longer wish me in your bed?”

“Of course not!”

“Good, because neither does the Novice.” He smiled, comfortingly stroking her arm. “Who do you think insisted that he propose? He loves you, and you both deserve this. Perhaps someday, I’ll choose to move on and find a wife, start a family of my own, but until then you’ll simply have to continue to endure my touch.”

An adoring smile curved her lips, and she kissed him tenderly. “It’s far from an ordeal, Malik. Though I warn you, any woman you choose to court will have to meet my approval. I’ll not give you up to some vapid bint.”

He chuckled, brushing his mouth against her cheek as he stood, strength rapidly returning. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now,” he said, smile turning devious as his arm lashed out, dragging Maria against him, “your husband-to-be will not be back for another few days, and I have every intention of making the most of it.”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, teasingly running her hands across his chest.

Ducking down, he bit her ear, harsh breath caressing the sensitive flesh. “Return to my room and take off your clothes. I plan to show you which of us is the master and which is the pet.”

She smirked. “Don’t tell me my little game wounded your masculine pride?”

His rough hand reached down and squeezed her rear before giving it a sharp slap, chuckling at her indignant yelp. “Mind your words, Maria, or else I’ll tell your husband, and we can both take a turn at taming you.”

Pulling away and throwing on her discarded tunic, she sauntered over to the door, glancing over her shoulder to give him a sensual grin. “I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case it wasn't obvious, this is part 3 of my Altair/Maria/Malik polyamourous series.  
> People wanted a smut fic where Maria was in charge, and I hope I delivered, even if it's not strictly Altair/Maria. I'm sure that I'll write something with her topping Altair one of these days, but I simply couldn't get the image of Maria playing with Malik out of my head.


End file.
